If Jon were here he might have a little more holiday snow to share, and Annie would have a little holiday cheer of her own to share with him. The things that man did to her last night made her blush.

She drank a third gla.s.s of water. Time to go.

But first, time to pee. Walking to the toilet, the sound of a m.u.f.fled crash came from the bas.e.m.e.nt door. She froze.

"Jon?" She opened the door, surprised to see that the bas.e.m.e.nt was well lit. Wooden yellow steps led down to a clean cement floor. "Jon?"

Something groaned, startling her. She almost lost her balance and went tumbling down the stairs.

Zombie!

It groaned again. A m.u.f.fled sound like a mouth stuffed with cotton.

"h.e.l.lo?" Standing on the top of the stairway she could see just a small part of the floor.

May I take one giant step down?

It was odd that the lights were on down there. Given the state of the rest of the house, she had a.s.sumed the electricity hadn't been turned on here.

Yes, you may.

Another tentative step, punctuated by another moan. Her first instinct was to leave. Unfortunately her second instinct won the day.

What if that's Jon? He sounds hurt. She took the second step, quiet as a church mouse.

Mother, may I take two giant steps forward? Another groan, then silence.

The lyrics of a song from earlier club fun days started playing in her thoughts, and she found herself unconsciously mouthing the words. She took the third step.

So come on and let me know. Another groan.

Yes, you may.

This time she was almost certain it was a groan of pain. Should I stay or should I go?

"Jon? Are you okay?" she whispered down the stairs.

No answer. s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g her courage to the sticking point, she quickly negotiated the remaining stairs.

Then she vomited.

The man strapped to the table was covered in blood. He was naked, except for the rags shoved into his mouth. Annie saw what must have been his clothes, shredded on the wet floor. His body was a riot of wounds, dozens of cuts on his arms, chest and face. Most were open and bleeding.

Annie doubled over and gulped air in ragged gasps. She forced herself to look closer at the man. He was covered in blood. His face was little more than a red mask.

"Jon?" Her eyes involuntarily traveled down his body and settled on what was left of his c.o.c.k. She turned and vomited.

"Oh G.o.d," she gasped. "Jon. Jon, is that you?"

A hand settled on the back of her neck and she screamed.

"I'm right here, baby."

"Oh, thank G.o.d." Annie turned and the flood of relief froze. He was wearing a blood-spattered green jumpsuit - scrubs, they're hospital scrubs - and he was smiling, tiny red dots decorating his upper lip.

"Jon. What? I don't understand."

"I know."

Still smiling, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and started dragging her to the empty table. She wept and she screamed. It took forever and no time at all, and then she was on her knees at the foot of the table.

She grabbed on to his legs and she begged.

He crouched down until he was eye to eye with Annie, his hand still holding tightly to her hair.

"Shh. It's okay, baby. Everything is going to be okay."

But of course, it wasn't.

Chapter 37.

Table Talk After cleaning up the remains of Annie and Jerry, Jon made himself a sliced steak sandwich with a side of delicious sweet potato. He even treated himself to a cold beer from a case kept in the trunk of his car, using it to wash down a couple of Vicodin, courtesy of Mayor Biggie himself.

Bought and paid for. With a fine meal under his belt, Jon grabbed the car keys, a pistol and his knife.

"Okay. Timmy Time."

A few minutes later he parked outside Timmy's house, glancing casually up and down the street, checking for zombies and other witnesses. Gun and knife tucked safely away for the moment, Jon made his way to the front door. It opened before he had a chance to knock or fix his smile firmly in place.

"Mr. Tanner -" Timmy looked both worried and relieved.

"Hiya, Timmy. How are things?"

"Well, um, okay I guess. Vi ... that is, Mom's sleeping right now ..."

Jon smiled inwardly. Doesn't trust me. Smart kid.

Jon stood close to Timmy, his breath steaming in the cold December air. "She's not sleeping, Timmy. At least upstairs she's not. Can I come in? We have some things we have to talk about."

Timmy's eyes widened in surprise. "How do you know she's not here? I mean, why do you think she's not here?"

Jon reached out and put a hand on Timmy's shoulder. "Because I know where she went, son." He smiled. "Now, are you going to invite me in or are we going to stand out here like a couple of nutsicles?"

The boy smiled. The world might be burning but that doesn't stop a twelve year old boy from appreciating a good nut joke.

"Um. Yes, sir. Please come in."

Jon could see he was still cautious but Timmy was a good boy and in the end politeness trumped caution. Once inside, Jon followed Timmy to the kitchen. The boy purposely averted his eyes when they pa.s.sed the TV room. There were still signs of last night's hootenanny on parts of the walls.

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, Jon rubbed his tired eyes.

"Listen, son. I've been trying all morning to think of an easy way to say this. Trying and failing. So I'm just gonna come out and say it. Your mother's gone, Timmy."

Timmy sat across from Jon, fishing through a box of KABOOM Cereal.

"I know. She wasn't here when I woke up. I thought maybe she was, well you know, maybe she was with you. She doesn't usually leave the house. I go out when we need stuff." A deep blush bloomed across the boy's face. "She must have gone to see Mayor Hart, then."

Jon smiled to himself. She was spreading her legs for Mayor Biggie and the kid knows it. If the Mayor had a real hard-on for Annie, that might turn into a problem. Good thing I'm heading out for parts unknown.

"What I mean is, she left. She left and I don't think she'll be coming back."

"She wouldn't do that. She wouldn't leave without me. I mean, she hardly leaves the house these days. No way would she leave town."

Jon leaned forward to scratch his leg and deftly unsnapped the knife sheath strapped to his ankle.

"She's gone, Timmy, and so is Sunshine. I'm a betting man and it's a sure thing that they left together."

"That doesn't make any sense. She hardly even knows him. I think we better go talk to Mayor Hart." Timmy stood up and Jon, his hand hidden by the table, slid the knife partway free from the sheath.

"Sit down." Jon studied the boy as he looked around the room, evidently confused.

"Mayor Hart will know what to do. She wouldn't -"

"Sit, down." He said it soft and slow and gentle, but his eyes were hard. Timmy didn't sit, but he didn't leave either. "There's more that you need to hear." Jon patted the tabletop with his free hand. "Please." Timmy reluctantly took his chair. "You might remember that Sunshine and I only met a few days before coming to Deerkill. He seemed like a good egg at the time - just another survivor, like you and me."

"I guess. But what does he -"

"Sunshine is an addict, Timmy. I wish I could say I didn't know about it, but the truth is I saw him getting high several times. Mostly on cocaine and weed, but I'm sure he had other stuff." Jon saw comprehension and sadness in Timmy's face. "I blame myself for bringing him here. If I'd known he and your mom would find each other ..."

"Stepmom," Timmy said woodenly. "She's my stepmom."

"I know, son. And I know you love her. She's a good woman and she's easy to love. I saw that right away. But I saw something else about her, Timmy. And I think you see it too."

Timmy stared at his hands. "I know she needs pills and stuff. Sometimes she sends me out ..."

"It's a hard habit to break, I can tell you. And Sunshine, he was a little sweet on your mom - stepmom."

"I don't know ... I don't know what to do now." Timmy looked at Jon. "What should I do?"

Jon eased the knife back into the sheath and leaned back in his chair. "I think I may know where she's heading. I have an idea, at least."

Timmy leaned forward.

"Where?"

"Last night after you went upstairs, we got to talking. We'd polished off a fair amount of wine, to tell the truth. I think she was feeling no pain, if you know what I mean. She started talking about these crazy dreams she kept having recently ... dreams about a postman."

Timmy gasped and jumped up from the chair. "A postman?"

"And zombies ... and some kind of rock. She was pretty drunk. We both were. But she seemed convinced that if she found that postman she might find her husband. I didn't think too much of it at the time, but maybe ..."

"She's going WEST. She's going to help Dad!"

Jon feigned surprised. "How could you know that?"

"I have the same dreams. There's a postman. But he's a zombie now, and he's glowing. I mean, there's a rock in his head and it's glowing. They're in Colorado. A place called Comfort. And in my dream I know that rock can help my dad. She's had the same dream. She didn't leave me for drugs. She left to get Dad."

Jon said nothing, allowing Timmy to believe his own lie. "I suppose that's possible," he said doubtfully. "I didn't think much of it at the time, but if you're telling me you had the same dream ...?"

"Yes. I have it all the time. We have to get her, Mr. Tanner. We have to help her. That rock - it's a meteorite - is important. Not just for my dad, either. I can feel it. We have to go there. We have to."

"I don't know, son. I like you and I really like your stepmom. But we've just met, more or less. Going all the way to Colorado based on a spooky vision ... I don't know."

"Please. I need to get there and I can't go by myself. Please, Mr. Tanner. I know it's not your mother and father, but you need to be there. I just know it." Timmy looked down at the floor. "I have to go, either way."

Jon smiled. "If I do go, there are going to be rules and you need to follow both of them, Timmy."

Timmy looked up, hope flashing in his eyes.

"Anything."

"That's exactly right, Timmy. Rule number uno, you do anything and everything I tell you to do. I don't want to end up dead because some kid zigged when I said zag."

Timmy nodded in agreement. "Anything and everything you say. Sure thing, Mr. Tanner."

Jon leaned forward and held his hand out to Timmy. "And rule number two, call me Jon. Deal?"

"Deal." Timmy smiled in relief, and shook hands with the devil.

Chapter 38.

Old Time Religion Like a lot of people, Sunshine woke up in a state of confusion and, also like a lot of other people, he woke up in church. That's where the similarities ended.

He was lying spread-eagled on the floor between the first rows of pews, hands and legs each tied to a bench. Weak sunlight streamed through a large stained gla.s.s window almost directly above him. Colored in mostly greens and blues, the stained gla.s.s depicted a stormy ocean, tossing a small boat filled with men. Since there was no whale, he a.s.sumed it was meant to depict Jesus and his apostle pals taking a break from spreading the Word and spending the day fishing. The rest of the room was dark, and had an empty feeling.

How did I get here?